I’d know you even in complete darkness.
Your memory fills every minute of my 1,440 minute day.
The echo of your baritone voice plays like the soundtrack
of my mezzo-soprano world.
There’s no pressing pause.
No option to annul.
It just goes on and on like an endless serenade beneath the window of my soul.
I recall with fondness caressing every inch of your six foot frame.
I would touch the muscles in your back,
ever so gently,
as if they were braille,
revealing the answers
to my most intimate questions:
Do you love me?
Are you afraid too?
Do you want me as much as I desperately want you?
At times I try to suppress your image and wipe away recollections…
but I can’t.
You are my person.
Before you there was no one and after you there can only be imitators.
And though I curse this condition, I’ve realized something far greater.
Trying to forget someone you love is like
remembering someone you’ve never met.
It’s an impossibility,
so I must acquiesce.
